The Ghosts of Our Past
by Drdiagnostic
Summary: This story occurs post Season Eight. Rather than utilizing the finale used by the show, I've re-written events. Other than Wilson's impending death, House and Cuddy find their way back to each other in most unusual way. The ghosts of their pasts come back to haunt them, as can only be customary to two very troubled individuals.
1. Chapter 1

**The Ghosts of Our Past**

_**Disclaimer: House, MD and its entities are the property of David Shore, FOX and Universal Media Corporation. This story is for sole entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. **_

**CHAPTER ONE:**

A ray of light from the window touched House's eyes, as he lay in bed in a room as big as a jail cell. It was a familiar place-a place where his inner demons were unleashed and his desires exposed. As he lay there staring at the ceiling, he wondered how he could have fallen so far as to end up back in the place that essentially saved his life and started him on a new path. He never thought he'd see the light of day of this place again. Yet, here he was back in Mayfield-embarrassed by his actions and brokenhearted that he was in such a lonely place again with nothing to look forward to, or so he felt. In reality, he knew how he'd gotten here again. Funny thing how crashing a car into your ex-girlfriend's house and the impending death of your best friend play games with your mind, heart and overall emotions. Was he remorseful for the things he'd done? Everyday. Did he show it? No. He reverted to things he knew best-inner turmoil, booze, hookers and Vicodin. Deep in his heart he wished that he could have made better choices. He figured if he had, then Cuddy would still be in his life and dealing with Wilson's cancer would've been a whole helluva lot easier. Unfortunately, that's all in the past and what's done is done. There is no going back. Cuddy is gone and Wilson soon will be. So, what's left really?

Thanks to his childish behavior of stuffing paper down a drain and causing damage to the MRI room, House reflected on how he almost found himself in jail again. Thankfully, due to some good attorneys and testimony by Dr. Nolan, the court felt House acted under duress, triggered by Foreman's gesture of buying tickets to a hockey game in which he and House could attend together, suggesting that Foreman was trying to become a replacement for Wilson upon Wilson's demise. This emotional trigger along with the fact that detectives could not find fingerprints on the paper caused the court to suggest House be placed in Mayfield again to deal with his emotional issues, addiction relapse, and to prevent further imprisonment. House was content with this ruling, because it gave him time to be with his thoughts alone and in somewhat of a peaceful environment without people chiding him or pushing him to talk. He just wanted to be away from all of it. Yet, he was feeling guilty that he couldn't be there for Wilson right now. The positive angle to all of this was that Wilson could come and see him to spend time with him in the open rather than visiting him in a jail cell.

Now, House just lays and waits. For what he doesn't know. He doesn't care. He's just happy to be alone.

House's solitude is broken by the annoying sound of his high-strung obsessive compulsive British roommate, Cy, as he bellowed, "Greg, it is now time for group therapy. If you don't get up now you will be late and it will be terribly annoying to the rest of the group."

"Kind of like you?" House retorts.

"If you wish to continue this childish behavior then so be it. I don't want to bear witness to anymore of your insubordination. Brood all you want, I have therapy to attend."

Before Cy exits, House calls out to him, "Cy, is that a wrinkle I see on your bedspread?"

Cy glances over to see a minuscule wrinkle on the bed. He acknowledges House's question, "Indeed it is."

Holding back a bit of a grin House asks, "Aren't you going to fix it?"

"There is no need. It's just a wrinkle. The world is full of them." Cy answers.

"But you want to?" House goads him.

"Wrinkles are but a part of life. No need to focus on them." Cy recites clearly trying to resist the urge to fix it.

"And yet here it is calling to you 'fix me' fix me'." House notes.

Unable to resist the urge any longer, Cy goes over to smooth out the wrinkled bedspread. Looking over at House he says annoyed, "You're an ass, Greg." He then exits. House lays back in the bed for a minute with a smile on his face to bask in his evilness. Then, he's hit with the realization that in order to get out of here, he'd better get his ass up and go to group therapy.

* * *

House steps into familiar territory, as he sees Beasley taking the group therapy lead. Upon seeing her he says, "Can't stop torturing yourself, can you?"

"I would say the same about you, Greg." She answers back.

Just then Doug, an African-American gentleman in his early forties, scratching his arm, announces, "I'm itchy and I think I have a fever. I think it could be malaria."

House looks at him and says, " I doubt you're a world traveler, and since you're here and not doubled over somewhere I doubt you have malaria either. I would, however, peg you as a hypochondriac." He looks over at Beasley and asks, "Am I close?"

"Five dollars says you're right?" Chimes in Larry, a heavy man in his mid fifties with a thick Brooklyn accent. House looks over at him, and the man tells him, "Okay twenty."

"Gambler, got it." House notes.

A woman in her mid twenties, Beatrice, jumps up from her chair and exclaims, "Why is everyone looking at him?! " She points to House. "I need to talk about MY problems! I think I've found a way to really turn my life around." Then she turns to House. "Please don't be offended." She sticks her finger in her mouth seductively, then says to him, "Perhaps we can make up later. I bet I can make it worth your while."

"I would but this whole histrionic personality is a major turn off. Talk to Larry though. Seems you're in his territory." Turning to Beasley he says, "I believe I'm three for four right now."

Amy, a mousy looking blonde with glasses in her late thirties, interrupts in a childlike voice, "Hey stink head! Sit down! I want to go out and play!" Then her voice changes to what would sound like a stoned out man. "Come on Lucy. Peace, love and happiness. Just feel it." Then the woman puts her hands on her ears and yells, "Both of you be quiet!"

Pointing his cane at the woman he says, "Now _**she's**_ interesting. DID patients are always entertaining." He turns to Beasley and smiles.

"If you are finished, Greg. Can you please sit down, so we can start?"

Cy moves the chair next to him so it's in line with the others and gestures for House to sit, but House doesn't. His attention is drawn to a woman with her back turned to him, sitting on the window sill. Her knees are drawn to her, as she stares out the window.

Staring at the back of the woman, House asks no one in particular, "What's her deal?"

Beasley answers him, "It's none of your concern. Sit."

Not having it, House turns to Beasley and tells her, "No way. If I have to sit here and torture myself, so does she." House turns back to the woman and yells, "Hey you! Why don't you come here and sit with the rest of the group? I'm bored and want to know **_your_ **story."

Still staring out the window the woman answers him, "Why don't you shut up?"

Upon hearing her voice he stands there in shock over its familiarity. He begins thinking to himself that it can't be. There's no reason for her to be here.

However, his fears are confirmed when she turns around to face him saying stoically, "You know damn well what part of my story is, you son of a bitch."

With his eyes wide, he softly mutters, "Cuddy."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Special thanks to Mystrygab for allowing me to bounce ideas off of her and to the many readers, followers and those who've offered comments as we continue this story together. Thank you! **_

_**Disclaimer: House, MD and its entities are the property of David Shore, FOX and Universal Media Corporation. This story is for sole entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.**_

**CHAPTER TWO:**

Cuddy slides off the window sill. If looks could kill, House would most certainly be a goner. With steely eyes she approaches him, a fire lit within her.

As she gets closer to him, House swallows hard and with a weakness in his voice says to her, "I'm so sorry, Cuddy."

Bringing her hand up in one swift move, she cracks him clean across the face. "Screw you!" She cries, as House begins to rub the sensation away of thousand rubber bands snapping across his face.

Cuddy continues her tirade, pointing at him. "**_You_**..you took away my home, my life, my daughter until there was nothing left but a shell of my existence!" As tears begin to form pools in her eyes, she shoves him, exclaiming, "I hate you! I hate everything about you! I wish you were **_never_** in my life!' With all the force building in her body, she shoves him even harder causing him to stumble and fall back onto the floor, while his cane goes sailing in the air finally finding its way to the ground with a loud crack. Cuddy swiftly picks up the cane, soaring it above her head like a knight ready to issue a final blow to his opponent.

"Do it!" House yells. "Do it!" He pleads. In his heart and mind House felt he deserved every bit of her uncontrollable rage. After all, he did alter her life in the most unsatisfying way.

Hearing the commotion, the orderlies rush into the therapy area. Cuddy drops the cane and sobs, as the orderlies grab her by the arms and usher her out of the room. House lay there on the ground breathless, tears forming in his eyes but never falling.

The tension is broken for a moment when Beatrice states, "And they say I'm a histrionic personality."

Two other orderlies surround House and assist him to his feet, handing him his cane. "Are you all right?" One of the orderlies asks.

"Yeah." House softly answers.

Just then, Nolan comes darting into the room, "What's going on here?"

Looking at Nolan House queries, "Why didn't you tell me she was here?"

"I was hoping we could keep you two apart for as long as we could."

"Great job." House sarcastically answers.

"I'll move you to another ward tomorrow." Nolan concedes.

"No, don't do that. Sooner or later we'd have to cross paths again. Guess there's no place better than a controlled environment with plenty of people to keep us from killing each other." House pauses for a minute then questions Nolan.

"How long has she been here?"

" Over a year." Nolan replies.

With a sense of sadness and remorse in his voice, House questions, "Did I do this to her? Did I put her here?"

"I can't answer that."

"Based on that reply, I'm guessing yes." House deduces.

"You're not the only reason, House. It's more complicated than you think."

"Then what else is it?" House wonders.

"That's an answer you'd have to get from her. Now, I think it's time for your group therapy."

House gives Nolan a small nod of agreement and goes to take a seat.

* * *

Nolan sits on an armchair with pad and pen in hand, while Cuddy sits across from him in another armchair which seems to somewhat consume her small frame. She's looking out the far window into the distance somewhat lost in thought. The silence is deafening until Dr. Nolan breaks it.

"Do you want to tell me about what happened yesterday?"

"No." She says flatly.

"Want to talk about Rachel?"

"No." She says again, while digging her nails into the fabric of the armchair.

"Okay." He answers.

Cuddy mutters, "Why does he have to be here? I feel like I'm being haunted all over again. Everything just keeps replaying in my mind over and over."

"Your nightmares started again last night, didn't they?"

Looking at him solemnly, Cuddy gives him a small nod.

"Are you afraid of him?"

Touching her finger to her lips in thought, she shakes her head and softly whispers, "No."

Nolan forms a curious look on his face and is suddenly intrigued by her answer. "No? Why? He crashed his car into your house. You don't think there's reason to fear someone like that?"

"Do **_you_**? You took him under your wing. Means you know something's not right with him. Rather than let him rot some more in a jail cell, you brought him here which indicates to me that you think there's something still salvageable in him."

Nolan offers her a wry smile and notes, "I can see why he loved you, because I feel like I'm talking to him right now. Let's not talk about what _**I** _think. Let's talk about what **_you_** think. Do you think that in spite of his actions, there's something salvageable in him? Do you think he deserves absolution for what he did to you?"

"It isn't about absolution. It's about answers. Why did he do it? I mean...I know he was pissed at me and jealous and I'm sure the Vicodin didn't help matters but...he was always **_self_**-destructive. Never vindictive. I keep wondering if I deluded myself into thinking that he was incapable of doing such an act. That I was so blinded by love, I hadn't noticed this dark side he hid, waiting to be unleashed at the right time."

"Is that what you really believe?" Nolan wonders. "That House is a true sociopath?"

"As crazy as it sounds...no. Yes, he tended to be anti-social, but I think that was out of fear. He always felt that he'd hurt people who got too close to him. He was reckless when it came to patients, but it was never for his own personal gratification. It was to save a life. And when he pissed off the people close to him, he did feel guilty."

"Do you think he felt guilty about what he'd done to you?"

She pauses for a moment in thought, wiping a tear from her eye. Finally, she answers, "Yes. He could've easily hid for a long time overseas, but he came back and did more time than he should have. He **_wanted_ **to punish himself. Why else wouldn't he hire a lawyer? Why else would he allow himself to get beat up in jail? _**Self**_-destructive."

"How do you feel?"

"Confused. Frustrated. Angry."

"Do you feel you can ever forgive him?"

She ponders for a minute and with a gentleness in her voice answers, "I don't know...because I'm just as screwed up as he is."

Nolan furrows his brow a bit, processing her last few words.

Rubbing her head she conveys to him, "I'm tired. Can we stop now?"

Nolan softly replies, "Okay. It's that time anyway."

They both stand and head to the door.

Nolan pulls it open for her, then puts a hand on her shoulder and offers words of comfort, "You did good today. We're going to get you through all this. In the meantime, I'll have the orderlies give you a sedative to help you sleep."

"Thank you." She says. Then suddenly stops for a minute and grabs her hip and winces.

"You okay?"

Cuddy takes a breath and nods. Then looks outside and points out, "It's raining."

Nolan nods sympathetically and Cuddy leaves.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: House, MD and its entities are the property of David Shore, FOX and Universal Media Corporation. This story is for sole entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.**_

_**Again thanks to Anne and all my readers for your enthusiasm, comments and interest in this story. **_

**CHAPTER THREE:**

As sunlight pours through the main recreation room, House is playing ping pong with Larry. Cuddy is sitting quietly reading a book in her favorite spot on the window sill. Doug is trying to track down anyone who will listen to him about his latest ailment. Amy and Beatrice are carrying on a lively conversation. Cy is busy counting holes in the tiling.

A ping pong ball goes whizzing past Larry.

House proclaims, "That's two points for me!"

Larry yells at him, "Double or nothing?"

"You do know you have a gambling problem, right?" House points out.

"Not unlike your Vicodin addiction." Cuddy mutters just loud enough so House hears.

House answers her back sarcastically. "It never bothered you before." He puts his finger to his lips in mock thought. "Oh wait...it did. As I recall, it's why you broke up with me."

Cuddy closes her book hard in disgust and says to him, "For the last time...you taking a Vicodin is _**not** _why I broke things off with you. I broke things off with you because you are a self-centered ass!"

"Well, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black." House notes.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Cuddy asks annoyed.

"Did it ever occur to you that I was doing everything I could to suit **_your_ **needs? Your problem was that you couldn't primp me enough to be your knight in shining armor, so you bailed. You said you didn't want me to change, but that's exactly what you were trying to do to me. When you couldn't do it, you ran...like you always do...because you don't know what you want. You only _**think** _you do."

Cuddy throws the book down on the window sill, walks over to House and bows. "I fall at the feet of your impeccably, observant wisdom, especially from a man who's devoid of any human emotion because he can't be bothered with its significance. Rather than take a moment to _**actually** _feel, he drowns himself in pills, booze and sarcasm because _**he**_ likes to run away from pain and any kind of feelings that show he is an actual human being. So, King Gregory, go back to your mirror on the wall and continue to drink in your vanity, because the image in the mirror is the only thing you care about." She walks out of the room.

House stands there dumbfounded, while around the corner Nolan peers into the room having observed the whole confrontation.

* * *

Later that day, House enters Nolan's office, plops himself on the chair, and lays his cane on the armrest.

"So what intrinsic rewards are you offering me today? There's a rumor going around there's a two for one sale."

Nolan ignoring his dry wit, asks House, "How are you feeling?"

"Peachy! Leg pain is tolerable. Getting used to Cy's stuffiness. Having fascinating conversations with Amy and her personalities...especially Donna the Dominatrix. Did you know she has an all leather room?" He thinks a minute. "Or that might be Amy. I don't know, but I'm looking her up when I get outta here."

"House." Nolan gives him a stern look.

"Fine. What do want to know?"

"Health wise. How are you feeling?"

"I told you. My leg..."

"I'm not talking about your leg." Nolan says, cutting him off.

House looks at him intently for a moment. "I'm doing okay." He answers softly.

"Did you ever tell anyone what happened with you?"

"Why? Not like it was an excuse for what happened. I caused it. I was accountable."

"While your experimental methods may have caused it, it wasn't your authentic emotions that caused the chaos. You had a serious issue that had to be dealt with...one that explained all of your actions. You had a real excuse for your actions, but instead you decided to punish yourself. Forwent representation so you could place yourself in a jail cell for no real reason."

"You do remember I crashed my car into my ex-girlfriend's house, right? If you forgot, you can go online. Find the news reports."

"It wasn't you, Greg, and you know that...unless you've trained yourself to believe it. Do you really believe you're a violent monster?"

For a moment, House stares silently into nowhere. He then breaks the silence by saying, "I don't know what I believe anymore."

"Do you believe in redemption?"

"Redemption is only given to those who deserve it."

"And you don't think you deserve it?"

"For all I've done to push people away in my life...my failure to be there when they needed me...thinking about my feelings first...no...I don't. I've done terrible things. You don't offer redemption to people who've done terrible things. If we did that people like, Charles Manson, Osama Bin Laden, Jeffery Dahmer...they'd all get a free pass."

"You are hardly a mass murder."

"How do you know? I could be harboring evil thoughts right now like...what room do I have to break into to steal a cigarette?" He quips.

" Your psychosis doesn't point to being a sociopath, otherwise you wouldn't be a doctor doing everything you can to save a life. You'd be taking them."

"I have had patients die you know."

Nolan gives a small smile, "Not purposely. Due to illness."

"Deaths that I may have purposely caused due to my insanity." He jokingly points out.

"You mean the same insanity that may have saved more lives than took?"

House gives him a look, knowing the Nolan is right.

"Greg, you've got to stop beating yourself up for the negative things you've done. Instead, learn from them. Figure out what you can do right the next time, so it doesn't happen again."

"And what if there is no next time?"

"There always is."

"Not with Cuddy there wasn't it. She gave me every chance to make things right...more than every chance actually. I kept making the excuse that I could do better, but she was right. I couldn't. I never could. And that hurt me more than anything, because I wanted to and didn't know how. I kept...trying to come up to the surface for air while she drifted father away. I couldn't be what she wanted and it made me angry more at myself than her. Nothing ever has a happy ending. Fairy tales are for morons."

"I think if you two had a real conversation and you told her what happened to you, you'd have a chance to at least repair what broke."

House rolls his eyes, "Oh God. You're a moron. And here I had so much respect for you."

Nolan smiles again, "I'm not talking about fairy tale endings. I'm talking about reestablishing a lost connection. It's something that could be useful when Wilson is gone."

"While your logic might work for most healthy relationships, you forget you're in the world of Greg House. Master of the art of alienation. Keeper of the locks to close the mouths of those who wish never to speak to him again."

"Well, maybe it's time you handed over the key."

There is silence as House begins to absorb Nolan's words.

He responds to him by saying, "She'll never believe me."

"How do you know if you don't approach her honestly? I don't think you're giving her enough credit. She is an adult. A smart one at that."

"You trying to hit on her? I don't blame you but you know that's unethical."

"Talk to her."

"How? I mean what the hell do I say?"

"You'll figure it out."

"Oh that's real insightful. You should write greeting cards."

"I give my best advice to those who'll actually listen to it. This session was buy one get one half price. Times up."

He gets up and House follows his lead. As they get to the door, Nolan reminds him, "Don't forget. Therapists are coming tomorrow at 9 to give a final evaluation on your mental status and motor skills."

"I'm fine now." House insists.

"Let them do their job. Not only is it important for here, but for you medically."

"Fine. Hopefully, the therapist is a she with a low cut top." House pulls the door open and limps out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Special thanks to the following individuals who have left comments. It is much appreciated! HuddyGirl, Abby, lenasti16, jkarr. dmarchl21, JLCH, OldSFfan, Ladytrad, bere, I HeartHouseCuddy, MystryGAB, limptulip, princessariellover876 and to all the guests who've taken the time to read and comment. Thank you! **_

_**Disclaimer: House, MD and its entities are the property of David Shore, FOX and Universal Media Corporation. This story is for sole entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. **_

**CHAPTER FOUR:**

About two months have passed at Mayfield with House and Cuddy still challenging each other and their own deeper, personal issues. Today was a different day though. It was visiting day and Wilson was granted permission to see House. Upon entering the visiting area the two exchanged hugs.

"So, you wanna take a walk? Get some fresh air?"

"If by walk you mean a leisurely limp..."

"There are benches outside, you know. We **_can_ **sit down. Since you look miserable, I figured you could use the sunshine."

"I _**look**_ miserable? Do you know me at all? Sunshine is my enemy...along with cheerful, needy cancer patients."

"Do you want to go or not? Not like I have all the time in the world to waste."

"Sorry. Forgot you were dying. Let's go. See if we can play guess the disorder."

The sun was shining and the temperature was comfortable, much like a blanket enclosing one with its warmth. House and Wilson were treading slowly on the sidewalk, engaged in conversation, catching up on news and gossip.

"He's seriously cheating on his wife with Nurse Tucker? What an idiot! That's like downsizing." House observes.

"Well, his wife hasn't found out yet but I'm sure she will soon when she opens up his Facebook page. There might be a note with an incriminating picture on there. So I've heard." Wilson states with mock innocence.

"You bitch you!" House says smiling. "What happened to Wise Wilson? King of Morality."

"He got bored and wanted to have a little fun before he dies. Plus, it was my way of thanking you for sitting there with me as I puked. I figured it was the least I could do."

"You are a good friend." He comments as he wipes away a fake tear.

There is silence for a minute. Then, concerned, House asks Wilson, "How are you feeling?"

"There are good days and bad days. But since I'm only two months into my five month death sentence, I'm doing okay so far physically. Some days, emotionally, it's tough. I'm fine with it though."

"I'm sorry I can't be there right now." House says with guilt in his voice.

"It's not your fault...well it _**is** _your fault for being an ass...but I'm willing to overlook it, since you getting better is more important. Plus, you still owe me a hundred dollars so I'm waiting to collect."

"For what?" House questions dumbfounded.

"Chase and Adams are an item now. I bet you it was going to happen and I was right."

"Proof! I don't do bets without proof. And don't play the guilt cancer card. It may work for other people, but not me. I need hard evidence."

Pulling out his phone, Wilson remarks, "I knew you'd say that. That's why I took this." Wilson holds up his phone to show a picture of Chase and Adams kissing in the parking garage.

"How do I know you didn't set this up?" House questions skeptically.

"I knew you'd ask that." Wilson taps a few buttons on his phone. Then he holds it up to House. "Here's your confirmation."

House looking with wide eyes, shaking his head says, "What an idiot. Adams posting a picture on her Facebook with Chase's hand on her boob and crotch. Haven't I taught these kids anything? It's always the pretty ones who are dumb. I had such high hopes too."

"Speaking of dumb..." Wilson places his phone in his pocket. "Have you even had a serious conversation with Cuddy yet?"

Confused House queries, "How did you know she was here?"

"I didn't want to tell you but, even after what happened, I kept in contact with her. I talked with her by phone for a week. Then she stopped answering my calls. I called Arlene asking if everything was okay with her, because I was worried. She was very cryptic. All she could tell me was that Cuddy was in a very bad place at that time. She told me she went to Mayfield, but she couldn't tell me why. She asked me to respect Cuddy's privacy. I knew something had to happen, but I just didn't know what."

"And you couldn't find out, Mr. Gossip?"

"I didn't want to. I honored Arlene's request, especially since she sounded so solemn. I just told her to call me if she needed anything. I haven't heard from her since."

"For a minute there I thought you'd taken over a new leaf. Good to know Mr. Humanity hasn't gone anywhere." House quips.

They stop to take a rest and sit on one of the benches.

Wilson goes on to tell him, "Whatever happened between the two of you I don't think is the main reason why she's here. I mean...I think it's _**part**_ of the reason, but not all of it. As much as she was pissed and hurt by you, she wasn't completely shocked by what you did. Something bigger happened to her that pushed her over the edge. And it had to be big, because she's always shown a strong will on the outside. Something took that away. I just don't know what. Whatever secret she's hiding is enough to lock her away." He pauses for a minute and then notes acerbically, "Gee that doesn't sound familiar at all."

"Oh shut up! For your information there isn't a day that goes by where I don't wish I could take it all back and start again. Where I wish I weren't so selfish and bullheaded. I keep replaying everything over and over again in my head...keep hating who I am...what I've become. She was it, Wilson and I blew it. If I didn't blow it and wasn't such a self-centered ass, then I could've helped her through whatever she was going through. She'd never be here. She doesn't deserve to be here."

"Neither do you."

House gives him a look of surprise. "Have you forgotten I'm an addict and a psycho?

"You are a _**recovering**_ addict, but you aren't a psycho. A psycho wouldn't have done everything to make sure I was okay during some crazy experimental cancer treatment. A psycho wouldn't have given his last Vicodin to make sure I didn't feel pain. A psycho wouldn't have taken pictures with hookers partying around me just to make me laugh. You aren't crazy, House. You're just...lost. Whatever issues you have, I don't think you ever dealt with them completely, since opening up is like avoiding an allergy for you. That's why you act like a psychotic ass, which can be both entertaining _**and**_ scary. "

"Thank you. I feel so much better. You can stop analyzing me now. That's what I pay _**them**_ to do." House wittingly says pointing his cane towards the institution.

"Fine. I'll stop. But I think once you and Cuddy deal with your personal issues, you might find yourselves again."

"Does dying suddenly kill common sense and make you a delusional idiot? I drove my car into her house, Wilson. Not like I posted naked pictures of her in the hospital lounge. Correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think vandalism by motor vehicle is an invitation for the birds to be chirping and sappy music to be playing again."

Wilson then wonders, "Why _**did**_ you do it, House?"

House rests his chin on his cane, staring at Mayfield quietly for a moment. Then answers, "It doesn't matter. No reason will change what was done. It shouldn't."

"You're not even going to give me a hint? After all, You did break my wrist with your NASCAR stunt."

House turns his head to look at him. "I am sorry about that. I'm glad you punched me. I deserved it. But right now, the answer is not something you need to know. You have enough problems."

Wilson gives him a quizzical look. "What's going on, House?"

"Nothing. It's over." House gets up. "Come on. I'll play you in a game of ping pong before you go. If you win, I'll buy you a hooker. If I win, you buy me a Monster Truck season pass."

"On no, if I win you buy me _**two**_ hookers _**and**_ I get your bottle of Macallan 18 year old whiskey."

"You may be dying but I'm not an idiot. You're not getting my whiskey."

"What's the matter? You afraid you'll lose? That's fine. A shame this place took away your competitive skills." He remarks mockingly.

Giving Wilson the evil eye, he says, "Oh it is _**so**_ on."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thanks again to all the readers who've been reading, making comments and putting this story into their favorites. Also, special thanks to my road trip buddy, Mystrygab, for discussing and dissecting the complexity of the House/Cuddy relationship and for helping me make it as real as I can. **_

_**Disclaimer: House, MD and its entities are the property of David Shore, FOX and Universal Media Corporation. This story is for sole entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. **_

**CHAPTER FIVE:**

Feeling that House and Cuddy were stuck in their therapy, Nolan organized a joint session. It was a risky move that could have dire consequences, but it was a move he felt he needed to take for the sake of each of them moving forward. Both were reluctant at first; but agreed to the arrangement, trusting his expertise.

Cuddy nervously sat in the chair biting her fingernails in anticipation of the start of the therapy session, anxiety building in the pit of her stomach. The sensation make her feel as if she were on a roller coaster waiting for the drop off.

Nolan approaches her, offering her a glass of water which she politely refuses. Then, Nolan proceeds to take a seat.

"Are you doing okay?" He asks with an almost soft fatherly voice.

Taking a deep breath she responds, "Yeah. I'm fine."

Trying to reassure her he says, "Look...I know this won't be easy but I appreciate your willingness to take this step. I really do think it's going to be good for both of you."

Waving her hand off she responds, "I know. I know. I just...with him I don't know what to expect anymore. I used to. Now, I just feel like I'm waiting for the tornado to hit."

"Given the circumstances...I understand your fears. But the best way to overcome that anxiety is to challenge it. Deal with it head on. Only then are you going to be able to move forward." He leans over to put a hand on her arm. "It's going to be okay. I'm here...for both of you."

When the door opens, an orderly is ushering in House. Cuddy turns to look. As they lock eyes, there is a mixture of both fear, anger and tension so thick not even an electric saw could cut through it.

The door closes behind House, as the orderly steps out of the office.

"Welcome, House. Have a seat." Nolan extends his hand gesturing to the seat next to Cuddy. House lays his cane next to the arm rest of the chair situated next to Cuddy and sits.

"I'm glad both of you agreed to do this."

"Tell me again why we're doing this? Because I'd rather be dealing with my own issues right now. If I have to sit here and listen to hers, I'll miss Wilson's funeral...and my own." House quips. Cuddy shoots him a look of displeasure.

"My main reason for this is that you two aren't going to be able to move forward in your own treatments until you address the elephant in the room...namely each _**other**_. The main problem with both of you is that you never really took the time to address your issues with each other. I can only surmise that this is why your overall relationship ended and eventually imploded. Now, I want to get to the bottom of it and lay everything on the table. I'm going to start with Lisa."

"Of course you are...just so you can get your kicks out of watching me listening to her desecrate my character even more than she already has." House snips.

"Oh shut up!" Cuddy retorts. "You are who you are because that's what you choose to be. I don't have to desecrate the obvious."

"Time!" Nolan yells making the time-out sign. "If we are going to get anywhere, I need to hear one voice at a time. As the moderator, Lisa has the floor right now. For a change Greg, just sit and listen. Maybe you'll discover something important." Turning to Cuddy Nolan asks, "Okay Lisa, what caused the dissolution of your relationship in the first place? Before the accident."

"Accident?" Cuddy looks at him a bit appalled.

"Okay, we'll call it the...incident. What happened prior to the incident that separated the two of you?"

Cuddy then proceeds to tell Nolan the whole story of the cancer scare. When she gets to the end, she conveys some additional thoughts.

"In the end, I was so hurt because this was his last real test to prove he could step up and he couldn't. He'd been invading my personal life for years and the one time that it really counted...when I _**really**_ needed him most...he wasn't there." Emotions began to overtake her and she reached over for a tissue.

House attempted to defend himself. "A test? Is that the way you viewed our relationship? As a test? Well let me explain to you that this just wasn't a test for me. I was in this for the long haul. I gave you _**everything**_ I had and you pissed on it like a cat in a litter box. I gave you my heart and you stuck a knife in it, twisting it until there was nothing left. You said you needed to know if you and I could work which means that I can now only assume that I was just an _**experiment**_...one that in your eyes failed. Well, I wasn't a lab rat, Cuddy! I was the man who loved you. Everything I did was wrong in your eyes. Did I do _**anything**_ right? Or did you just prepare an arsenal of the negatives so you had an excuse to break things off with me?

"What...you don't think I was invested in this relationship? I _**absolutely**_ was!"

'Well you had a lousy way of showing it. You may have _**thought**_ you were invested but instead I think you were just looking for the exit door." He declares.

"That's a load of crap, House! I came to _**you**_ that night." She shoots back at him.

"Yeah, after you bitched at me the whole night. telling me you didn't love me. Your affection was very convincing." He bites back.

"Tragedy has a way of opening your eyes to the truth. When I saw you talking to Hannah that night, it was the first time I saw you put someone else first. It was hard not to see that vulnerability and openness and not be hopeful. I thought you would've shown me that same compassion and honesty. Sadly, I was wrong."

"So based on your thought process of tragedy and truth one minute you loved me and then next I wasn't good enough to fit your worldview. Glad we cleared that up." He says with angry sarcasm.

"You abandoned me, House, because you couldn't handle it. You were incapable of being there, because you were too busy thinking about yourself. How do you think I felt House? It was no picnic in the park thinking I might've been handed a death sentence while my boyfriend was God knows where?"

"When you were sick I _**tried**_ to be with you."

"By taking a Vicodin to numb the pain, so you wouldn't feel." She countered.

He argues. "I _**did**_ feel. I _**did**_. I was scared. I was lost, because I didn't know what I'd do without you."

"And there it is. It was always about you and how _**you**_ felt. Not once have you ever considered the other person. I've been there for you a lot of times. When have you ever really been there for me?"

Annoyed House answers, "When have I really been there for you? Seriously? How about when you went through IVF? You came to me for your injections. I helped you and lied for you. Then you screwed me over!"

How did I do that?!"

"You went behind my back and told Wilson about adopting. After all I'd been through with you...the secret I kept..._**for**_ you...you left me out. I was hurt, Cuddy."

"Well you had a lousy way of showing it. You tortured me the entire day. Throwing baby spit at me...wrecking my lamp...invading the OR."

"You know why I did those things, Cuddy? Because I know you. I know your anal retentive nature. It was my insane way of making sure that was what you really wanted. And when you passed the test and the adoption went through, I felt badly for you and wanted to make sure you were okay. Life handed you a diaper of crap on your doorstep and you deserved better."

There is silence for a minute. Nolan just absorbs and observes what's going on between them. He doesn't want to interject just yet, because the fact that they are actually having a conversation is part of the barrier he felt needed to be broken.

Nolan presses a bit. "Lisa, what do _**you**_ think really pushed you over the edge?

"I don't know. I guess whenever he had a problem he wouldn't open up to me. He ran to Wilson. Then, when I'd confront him, he would keep telling me he could do better, but he didn't. I was open to telling him how I felt and he hid himself from me...because maybe he thought I wouldn't care or understand. Then, he took a Vicodin and I came to realize what really came first." She glances at House.

House retorts, " I tried everything I could to make you happy and fit your delusional fantasyland. You said you didn't want me to change but that was exactly what you were trying to do. You knew my personality. You _**knew**_ I was an addict. There wasn't a day that didn't go by where I didn't wonder what would happen if I'd relapsed. Surprised I didn't relapse sooner with all the crap you gave me. Nitpicking me for chewing on your toothbrush, not taking the garbage out. It became all about _**you**_. Like the time I lied to you about a patient. You took it personally. I lied to you a thousand times before. Did you think it would be any different just because we were in a relationship? I lied to _**protect**_ you...like I always have. You knew I had insane ideas when it came to the medicine; and when push came to shove you knew I'd use them for good reason. You turned a blind eye because you trusted me. You believed in me. That's why it never made sense why you were so pissed. It was a medical lie not a personal one."

"It wasn't the fact that you lied about the medical treatment, House. It was about the fact that I had to find out about it myself. At least when you were about to do something shady you always gave me a hint that you were about to do something insane or at least you gave me a heads up afterwards. You didn't tell me _**anything**_. What was I supposed to think? How was I supposed to feel? We had done this dance for years and suddenly there was a shift in the wind. " She shoots back at him.

"And what good would it have done if I told you, Cuddy? I tell you the truth. You tell me no. I do it anyway, because I'm trying to actually save lives; and you and I both end up in front of the board trying to explain my unethical insanity. We're both screwed then. You couldn't stop being bitchy and unreasonable. You continued to be angry over stupid things."

"Stupid things. You call standing me up at the banquet stupid?" She fires back.

"I lost a patient...a few patients. I needed some time to myself." He answers her.

"You needed to get drunk and avoid me. I wasn't pissed just because you didn't show up. I was pissed because you didn't have the decency to even answer my calls. I was worried, House. I didn't know if you were in a ditch somewhere, in trouble, or God knows what else. I wanted to go and find you, but Wilson wouldn't let me. I was a mess."

"I came to you that night then to let you know nothing mattered but you. I told you I loved you and that I would always choose you. I may have been drunk, but I meant every word. For the first time in my life, I was happy...with you. I decided that it was okay to feel that way. Then, you broke my heart. And everything was...meaningless." He says with a heavy heart.

"You think it was a picnic for me to end things? I cried all night long, House. Breaking things off with Lucas was easy because I felt nothing for him. I tried to create something that wasn't there. With you...nothing was ever manufactured. I was truly in love with you; and I thought that I had the strength to deal with you, because I had been doing it for years. But I was exhausted and ran out of gas, House, because you weren't being true to who you were. You became unpredictable; and I had to not only think of myself but Rachel too. Yet, if you think for one second that my decision didn't hurt me, it did. But not as badly as the mockery you made of everything we were afterwards."

Nolan curious asks Cuddy, "What did he do?"

House looks at Nolan and says, "You do realize there are two sides to every story."

Cuddy ignores House and tells Nolan, "He married some whore so she could get her Green Card and invited me to watch the illegal sham."

Nolan wonders, "Did you go?"

"Of course I went. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he got the upper hand."

"And did he?" Nolan asks.

Cuddy sighs."Yeah. He did. I was angry at myself for letting it get to me but it did."

"Mission was accomplished then. Score one for me." He mocks.

"Screw you, House! You made it seem that all the time we spent together...all the troubles we went through together meant nothing. You threw it in my face time after time. Threw _**her**_ in my face! You were being a vindictive jackass! She exclaims.

"Did it ever once occur to you that I wanted you to stop me? Tell me I was being an idiot? Tell me you still loved me? That what we had _**did**_ matter? When you didn't, I assumed you really didn't care. So, I decided to defile and mock the very institution people build dreams upon. The very institution I was willing to embrace and started to believe in until you ran over it. I loved you, dammit! I wanted to marry you. I couldn't get the idea out of my head. I dropped hints, but either you weren't getting them or you were ignoring them."

Confused and a bit shocked Cuddy asks, "When did you ever drop a hint? The only impression I ever got from you was that marriage was just a way to throw an obnoxious, hypocritical party."

"Remember when I said weddings were fun and I'd asked you what you would wear?"

Recalling she says, "That was when you were trying to trap me in a lie. Forgive me if I didn't exactly gauge sincerity in your actions."

"What about when your mom was sick? I didn't want her to die because I thought about the future...our future and I thought it would be forever."

Thinking a moment Cuddy remembers his words in her office that stormy night.

_**"One day...maybe a week from now, maybe a year from now, you're going to decide that the man next to you killed your mother."**_

"The night I came to you after the banquet to tell you how I felt, you thought I was breaking up with you and that I was too drunk to make that decision. Yet, after your cancer scare, you broke up with me. Did it ever occur to you that maybe you were too emotional to make that decision? Or don't the same rules apply to you." He says with an edge in his voice.

"I didn't end because I was emotional or you took a Vicodin! I thought about it a _**lot**_ House. I told you it wasn't..."

"If you thought about it a lot, don't you think you should've put up the red flag? At least then I would've had a damn warning! For someone who constantly preached about open communication, you had a lousy way of showing it!" He retorts.

"I thought about it after the breakup. At first I thought maybe I did jump the gun, but that feeling of not knowing if you'd ever be there trumped the guilt. I kept thinking about the countless times I'd been there for you during the worst times of your life...like when Amber died or when Wilson cut ties with you for awhile or when you were worried about your leg. Then I realized that not once did you ever really prove you were there for me during our relationship. I'd hoped you'd come to me after the breakup to talk about it and that maybe we could get passed it. Instead, you resorted to your usual adolescent devices...hookers, alcohol and juvenile stupidity." She responds with a biting tone.

Then tension is now growing and tempers are beginning to flare between both of them.

"That's not all true. I was your lap dog when your mom got sick. As for your cancer scare, you want to know why I wasn't there for you? Because I was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with you! I ignored my patient because I was trying to save _**you**_! When I knew I couldn't or thought I couldn't, it was Amber all over again. I couldn't make things right or better and it sucked! I couldn't come to you because I _**failed**_ you. I failed you by not being there and I failed you because I couldn't fix it. I was too ashamed to show my face, because I felt I disappointed you. I debated long and hard before I took that Vicodin. And yeah...that was a personal lie to you. That's when I knew I didn't deserve anyone; but I never thought you'd leave me. You never had in the past. I hung on to that hope, but apparently hope is for sissies."

'Why didn't you tell me all of this?" Cuddy wonders.

"Would it have made a difference?" He asks.

"I don't...I don't know."

"Then why waste my breath. Words don't matter." He says.

"But actions do. Is that why you hacked into your leg?" She pauses. "Drove your car into my house? Did you really hate me that much? Especially since I came to you late that night? Went into that OR when you asked me to? You pleaded with me and said you trusted me and the next minute I'm watching the front end of your Dodge becoming a permanent decoration in my dining room. You destroyed everything I worked for, House. I watched all my dreams come crashing down with your insane, high idiocy!"

House gets up and points at her. "What about you? You lied to me. You said you weren't seeing anyone and yet...here you were laughing and joking with some geek in expensive clothes"

She gets up and faces him, her blood boiling. "Of course. It all makes sense. You were jealous! So you thought the best way to deal with that and really destroy me was to commit an act of violence. I destroy _**you**_ House and you destroy _**my**_ house. Very poetic. Well congratulations because you succeeded. You killed everything I had! Even my daughter!"

Irritated House says," Emotionally. She's a toddler. She'll get over it. She probably has by now."

"She won't because she's dead, House!" Cuddy snaps angrily. She then begins to sob uncontrollably.

House's eyes widen in complete shock. He starts to stammer. "Wha-what? How? She wasn't even there." He's trying to process what he's just heard.

"I can't do this. She says still sobbing and heads for the door.

Nolan gets up and calls to her, "Lisa!" But it's too late. Cuddy has already bolted out the door.

Nolan looks at House and asks, "Greg, you okay?"

House swallows hard, tears beginning to well in his eyes. He then softly says, "No, I'm not okay."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Special thanks again to all those who've been reading this story, commenting and putting it in your favorites. It's been fun having you all take guesses as to where I'm going. There isn't much story left to go, I'm afraid. However, there is still more to come. Thanks again to all of you! **_

_**Disclaimer: House, MD and its entities are the property of David Shore, FOX and Universal Media Corporation. This story is for sole entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. **_

**CHAPTER SIX:**

All was quiet at Mayfield that night. House, lying on his bed, had spent the better part of the day processing Cuddy's revelation that Rachel was dead, trying to make sense of it. He kept obsessing over how and why to the point that sleep was no longer an option. It was then that he made the decision to get up and go for a walk. Traveling through the darkened halls, he could hear the faint sounds of weeping echoing through the corridors. As he came closer to the music room, those sounds became more prominent. Glancing into the room, he saw Cuddy there sitting on the step of the stage and sobbing. At first he was hesitant to go in, but the urge to comfort her drew him through the door. It broke his heart to see her like that. She was always a strong woman to him, but he also knew that she secretly hid so much pain. Approaching her cautiously, trying to quiet his limp, he took a seat next to her. He began to speak, not directly to her but to the emptiness of the room.

"It was a tumor."

Cuddy stops crying for a moment and lifts her head to look at him, confused.

"I'd brushed it off for awhile, not even considering it a possibility. I suspected it was there the week before you got sick. Then, when you had the cancer scare, I ignored it. After the crash, I spent my day on this tropical island content and without a care in the world. I felt nothing. Not happiness. Not sadness. Not anger. Just...nothing. Next morning, I got up with a pounding headache that I knew wasn't from the booze and threw up. Suddenly, everything hit me. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I felt guilty and ashamed that I had just single-handedly destroyed one of the most important relationships in my life. That there was no way fix it. No way to make it right. I was always self-destructive...not a psychopath. The very fact that I had become one in that moment made me realize that I was... in trouble. That day I contacted a neurosurgeon I'd met in London in a bar during a conference I'd been to years ago. We'd kept in touch. Great guy. Closeted party animal. Anyway, I flew out to London, got scanned and that's when he confirmed that I indeed had tumor. He and the oncologist there both said that this definitely contributed to my... personality changes. I needed it gone, so I had an operation to remove it. Figured at that point if I died on the table, it wouldn't have mattered. I already alienated everyone I was close to by being a jackass. Surgery was a success. Tumor was benign and I spent three months in London recovering. Then, I flew back to Jersey and turned myself in to the cops."

Shocked, Cuddy says, "My God, House! Why did you go all the way to London, when Wilson was here?"

"I didn't want him to know. I didn't want anyone to know. Plus, I figured he was already pissed at me for taking off. I didn't want to bring him into this cesspool. I'd already screwed him enough in the past. Wanted to give him a break. Besides, if I came back right away there'd be a parade of uniformed people awaiting me with pretty bracelets. I wanted my mind back, so I could enjoy their beauty fully." He says with dry sarcasm.

"How did_** I**_ not realize this?" She says, shaking her head in disbelief. " I knew something wasn't right, but brushed off the possibility because I just thought you'd gone insane. I mean I knew you were a powder keg waiting to explode, but this was beyond even _**my**_ comprehension _**and **_Wilson's. Why didn't you tell your lawyer? You would've never done time and you would've avoided this whole mess."

"Because it was no excuse. I caused this disaster by ignoring the symptoms, because I'm a stubborn ass. I got what I deserved."

"That's not true." She says quietly. Looking at him, she tells him, "You're a masochist. You think punishing yourself in the harshest ways possible is justifiable for your actions no matter how big or small. What you haven't come to realize is that it's not _**always**_ your fault. Punishing yourself never heals the wounds, because you're still left with the bruises. You can't be helped if you're not willing to help yourself."

"As is evidenced by the fact that I'm here." He says dryly.

"But are you really here to help yourself or get out of jail?" She questions.

"Honestly...when I first came here I would've said jail. But with everything happening with Wilson and now actually being able to sit here and have a conversation with you without you slapping me...I'd say...myself...and my relationships." He says with sincerity.

Then she says, "You know, sometimes we hold so much in that letting go is not an option. It's just a sign of weakness, so we deny ourselves any kind of healing." She pauses for a minute and takes a breath then reveals, "It was a shooting."

House turns to look her in the eyes.

"After the crash, I decided that Rachel and I would stay at a hotel. Pretend it was a little vacation while the house was being repaired. I left the hotel for a bit to go turn in my resignation at the hospital. I left Rachel with Marina. When I came back, I heard a commotion at the other end of the hallway near our room. I got to our door, swiped the key to open it and as the door swung open, I heard two pops. I felt a sharp pain in my hip and I went down. I could hear Marina screaming in the room yelling 'Dr. Cuddy I'm so sorry!'. Next thing I knew cops were rushing through the hall. One stopped to tend to me and called in to 911. I passed out. Then, I woke up to find myself in the ICU. One bullet went blazing through my side narrowly missing vital organs, but causing internal bleeding. The other bullet pierced my hip with such force that my hip shattered. I had been in surgery for hours and more was going to be needed. I asked about Rachel. That's when I was told that she'd been sleeping on the bed..." She pauses to hold back tears as she recounts the story. "A bullet from the other room had gone through the wall into her vagina and through her body shredding her organs, piercing her heart and killing her instantly. It was a one in a million shot. No blood. No screams." Tears begin to softly fall down her cheeks, as she takes a breath. "I blamed you, because if you hadn't crashed your car into the house, we wouldn't have been in that hotel. Then I blamed myself for not protecting her. I felt like I failed as a mother."

House tried to comfort her, "It wasn't your fault, Cuddy. You didn't pull the trigger."

"But it felt like it." She tells him. "After everything that happened...the crash...the shooting...I started to suffer panic attacks to the point where I couldn't go outside. I stayed at my sister's suffering from PTSD, depression and agoraphobia. I was a complete mess. I knew I needed to do something. I didn't want to live my life like this. I called Mayfield and I called Wilson."

"Wilson brought you here?"

"Not exactly. Wilson brought the drugs to get me here. I knew I'd never be able to leave my sister's without kicking and screaming. So, I had Wilson bring by a sedative to give me. I told my sister that once I was out, she and Wilson needed to get me in the car and take me to Mayfield. I'd planned everything. My bag was already packed. I told Wilson that if he ever talked to you again, not to tell you what happened, not that I'd thought you'd care. He agreed. Next thing I knew I was knocked out and woke up here; and I've been here ever since."

"Explains why you sit on that ledge and never go outside." He observes.

"Yeah. On top of all that's happened, I've been feeling guilty that I haven't been there for Wilson. In spite of all that happened, we stayed close. The thought of him going through this alone...it just shouldn't be. Life is too short to grieve forever, but no matter how much time passes the wounds don't heal." She relays to him.

"You're right. They don't. They just make us who we are."

Cuddy glances at him in silent understanding.

"So, what happened to the shooter?" House wonders.

"Life in prison for an affluent, young idiot who had too much to drink."

"Guess mommy and daddy couldn't bail him out this time. Good to know there is still some right in the world."

"I guess." She says solemnly. "But it'll never bring her back."

House looks over at her, with pain squeezing his heart and softly says to her, "I'm so sorry Cuddy."

"Thank you." She says quietly.

House stands up and extends his hand to her. Looking up at him, she takes it and he helps her up. He starts walking with her.

Curious she questions him. "Where are we going?"

"Just...come on."

He leads her out of the music room and into the hallway, stopping at a door at the end of it. He pulls out a set of keys and begins to unlock the door.

Baffled, Cuddy queries, "Where did you get those?"

As he fiddles with the lock he responds, "Around this time, Bob...the orderly at the front desk...passes out. I take his keys and go for a smoke."

She looks at House disapprovingly.

"Hey, I don't have Vicodin. I need another vice."

She's still conveys a look of displeasure on her face.

"Oh you mean the keys. Don't worry. He'll get them back." The door unlocks and House opens it. He pushes it against the outside wall to prop it open. As he does a soft breeze from the outside rushes into the corridor. House pockets the keys and takes a step down. He stops on the first step of three concrete steps that lead to the recreation area outside. House turns, holding out his hand for her to join him.

Staying within the doors, she gently shakes her head and utters, "I can't."

"Yes you can. Come on."

She crosses her arms around her, rubbing them as she shakes with fear.

Looking into her blue, grey eyes, he says with reassurance, "I'm here."

Taking his hand, she gingerly steps down with her right foot, then her left and stands next to him on the step, gripping his hand tightly. For a moment she closes her eyes, feeling the gentle breeze across her face for the first time in what seems like forever. The night air was fresh and crisp and the stars glimmered in the sky like diamonds. Cuddy opened her glistening eyes taking in the beauty that she denied herself for so long, as well as the accompanying scents of the grass and flowers. The sounds of the crickets and frogs from a nearby pond were music to her ears. The experience is overwhelming to her, but freeing. Delicately, tears fall in small streams from her eyes.

Turning to look at House, she simply says, "Thank you."

He gives her a small nod and tells her, "You're welcome."


	7. Chapter 7

_**Well here we are at the final chapter of this small journey. It's been a pleasure writing this and somewhat of a challenge. Final thanks to MystryGAB for taking the time to beta and provide me with the input needed to bring more depth and meaning to the story.**_

_**Also a final thank you to those who have taken time to read the story and those who have left comments: vrjk223, HuddyGirl, Abby, lenasti16, jkarr, OldSFfan, Bakerstreet Blues, JLCH, dmarchl, hughsoulingregsmind, jaybe61, clinicduty, Ladytrad, IHeartHouseCuddy, limptulip, princessariellover876 and to all the guests who've left their thoughts. Also, a thank you to those who've favorited this story, as well. **_

_**Disclaimer: House, MD and its entities are the property of David Shore, FOX and Universal Media Corporation. This story is for sole entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.**_

**CHAPTER SEVEN:**

A crowd has gathered in the day room. There is a cake on the table with the words "Happy Re-Birthday" on it. Nolan stands leading the group in the traditional patient send off.

"Today, we are here to congratulate Lisa." Cuddy stands there with a huge smile on her face as everyone applauds. "We're proud of her. We wish her well, and we hope..."

The crowd answers in unison, "We never see her again!"

Cuddy brushes her hair to the side out of the way, bends over and blows out the candle on the cake. The room busts into applause. As Cuddy pans the room, she locks eyes with House, who turns and leaves the room looking less than happy. Cuddy politely excuses herself and follows House outside to the recreation area where he is sitting on a concrete bench, elbows on knees with his chin resting on his folded hands. She sits down next to him, folding her hands on her lap.

"You know if you don't hurry up all the cake will be gone."

"I've had it before. Trust me. It's not as delicious as everyone says it is."

She chuckles and then says to him, "I want to thank you again for everything. If it weren't for you, I'd still be stuck here."

"If it weren't for me, you'd have never been here in the first place."

She sighs a bit. Then she tells him, "It wasn't your fault."

"Funny, since months ago that wasn't the case. Amazing the power of what a tumor can do. Wonder if it can get me a threesome."

"Maybe we can start a Twitter campaign."

He looks at her and laughs.

"Listen, for what it's worth, I forgive you."

House shakes his head. "Don't do that."

Confused, she asks, "Don't do what?"

"You're feeling guilty, so you're trying to make things right...which you shouldn't because I deserved what I got. But it'll bother you until you do, because somehow you still see me as not being completely broken. You're an idiot."

"House, do you really think this is easy for me? I've had to come to terms with _**a lot**_ of things. Rachel's death, Wilson's cancer, you driving a car through my dining room. It's time to make peace with all of it and I'm trying right now to do it with _**you**_."

"And I'm saying you shouldn't. You did the right thing when you broke up with me. I'm damaged goods."

"Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to push me away?"

" Because I'm a virus, Cuddy. One that'll just suck the life out of everyone and everything in its path...or in this case drive them to the loony bin. I'm better off alone."

"That's not true." She says shaking her head.

"I figured maybe I'd just stay here. Take up knitting."

"What about Wilson? He needs you right now."

"Right now maybe, but what happens after he dies? Huh? I play doctor for awhile. Start taking butt loads of Vicodin again. Binge drink. Start hallucinating Wilson. End up back here in the circle of hell. Figured I'd cut out the middleman and just stay. Save myself the trouble."

"God you are such an ass. Don't you understand that there are people out there who care about you? "

"Like Blew the Janitor?" He quips.

"I didn't break up with you because you were selfish. I broke up with you to protect you. " She confesses looking at him.

"Yeah, cause' that knife through my heart really saved me." He says sarcastically.

"I couldn't get out of my head the fact that both of your Vicidin stupors involved me. You had been doing so well, staying clean and I ruined it."

"Because this is all about you."

"Tell me where I'm wrong. We played with our feelings for each other and you ended up here. I had a cancer scare and you relapsed. Statics don't lie according to you."

"You are such a narcissist. You forgot one thing."

'What's that?"

"I got clean because of you; and for the first time in my life I was happy...with you."

She smiles and puts a hand on his. "Take care of yourself, House and be careful when you get out of here. There are people who don't care about you as much as you think they do."

Bewildered, he asks, "What do you mean?"

"Foreman."

"Foreman?" He echoes confused.

"After I left and Foreman was put in charge, the hospital started to slowly crumble. Foreman was losing donors because of his arrogance and icy personality and the board was ready to pull the plug on his reign. That's when the lung case came in. Foreman knew you were a brilliant doctor and the hospital's biggest asset. He figured bringing you back may increase donations, especially if you solved the case. Seeing you as his meal ticket, he negotiated with the board to have you come back to the hospital under his watchful eye. Reluctantly, the board agreed making this Foreman's last hurrah if things didn't work out. Then, you came back and became his lapdog...something he relished. He started getting donations back. Yet, when things went wrong he didn't cease to throw you under the bus. He brought in Cofield to handle the case with Chase to save his own ass."

"How the hell do you know about _**that?**_ Did you put wire taps in the hospital after you left?"

"Even though I left the hospital, I still had spies."

"Wilson?"

"No." She says flatly. "It doesn't matter who fed me the information. What matters now is that you reboot your keen sense of observation. You ever stop to wonder how your fingerprints were found on a wet piece of paper that coincidentally had _**your**_ name on it?"

"Foreman gave them to me. His pathetic symbol of friendship when he found out Wilson was dying." He sits up and pretends to look innocent. "Not saying that I _**did**_ put them in the drain or anything."

"Oh, I'm _**sure**_ you did. But unlike Foreman, I would have at least covered your ass and made you pay for the MRI machine for being an idiot. Foreman on the other hand saw an opportunity to set you up. Rather than take you off the case, knowing full well that Wilson's situation was getting to you, he kept you on it. The stress made you attack a patient. Knowing you were a liability and with pressure from the board mounting to get rid of you lest _**he**_ be fired, Foreman got the paper from the fireman and turned you into your parole officer. He put himself first to save _**his**_ ass."

"Doesn't make sense. Why would he offer me the tickets in the first place? Did I miss the note in his personnel file that said he was psychic?"

" Because they were part of a back-up plan. He conveniently put the tickets under your name just in case he needed to use them to his advantage. He planted the bait by offering you the other ticket, knowing full well you'd be pissed at him for trying to replace Wilson, and you took it.

"How can you be sure about any of this? Maybe _**you **_don't have as many friends as you thought you did. What if your sources were screwing with you?"

"Because I know Foreman and so do you. And because my sources are very reliable. Foreman always wanted to take over and be in charge. He also failed a lot because of his arrogance. He valued being in power over being smart. It's why he failed at New York Mercy. It's why he failed at being in charge at Princeton when you were out of commission for awhile and why he continues his reign of failure as Dean of Medicine. He wants to see you crumble. I want to see you succeed, because I believe in you. I always have."

He nods and says, "Thank you."

Looking at her watch, Cuddy says, "I'd better go. Julia will be here to pick me up soon." She rises and House gets up with her.

"Will I ever see you again?" House wonders.

Putting a hand to his face, she smiles and says, "We always seem to find each othe." She lifts herself up to kiss his cheek. Stroking his cheek, she tells him, "Take care of yourself, House." She turns and walks back into the building.

As he watches her leave, his heart sinks again reminiscent of the last time she left. All he can do in that moment is stand there defeated...at least for now.

* * *

Wilson had lasted a few months longer than anticipated. Long enough for House to have spent a few months with him after his release from Mayfield. Though they were able to have that time together, it didn't make his death any easier.

Today was cloudy and cool. Though it hadn't started to rain yet, the pain in House's leg told him it was coming...although he couldn't really determine if the pain was caused by the rain or by the loss of his best friend. For House, it was safe to assume it was a combination of both.

Looking into the dark hole in the ground where the casket of his friend lay, House related to its empty void. Wilson's suffering ended, but his was just beginning. House's thoughts were interrupted when Wilson's mother held out the shovel to him. Without a word said between them, House exchanged his cane for the shovel and limped a small distance to a pile of dirt gathered at the foot of the grave. He dug into the pile, gathering a small amount onto the shovel, and tossed it onto the casket. Once he did that, he stood there for a moment taking in the gust of wind that suddenly blew through. He exhaled and limped back over to Wilson's mother to retrieve his cane and return the shovel.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion as House stood there. He could hear nothing and see nothing but the hole before him. He felt numb and lost until a hand interlaced its fingers with his. When he turned to look next to him, there was Cuddy. Looking up at him, she took her other hand and placed it on his arm, gently rubbing it. She then rested her head on his shoulder.

She was right. They always found each other.

Later on that night, clad only in boxers and t-shirt, House sat on his couch pouring glass after glass of whiskey. He was drunk but still functional. Getting ready to pour his next round, he is interrupted by a knock on the door. He gets up to open the door and when he does Cuddy is standing there.

"I came over to check on you to see if you were all right." She peeks over his shoulder and notices the half empty bottle of whiskey. "Judging by the half empty bottle on the table, you aren't."

"God how observant of you. You should be a hospital administrator or something." He says.

Pointing to the inside she questions, "May I?"

House holds the door open, allowing her inside his place.

She takes off her coat and tosses it on the chair.

"You want anything?" He asks.

"What are you drinking?"

"Whiskey. Want a glass?"

"Sure."

House heads to the kitchen to get a glass. Cuddy sits on the couch and picks up the bottle.

"Macallan." She observes. "This is the good stuff."

From the kitchen he yells, "I reserve only the best for my dead friends." He comes into the room with a glass in hand. "And because Wilson lost his bet with me. Figured I'd honor him one last time by mocking him." He sits next to Cuddy on the couch and pours her a glass. He sets the bottle back down on the table and hands her the glass.

Holding his glass up, he proclaims, "To Wilson...the biggest pain in my ass...and the best friend I ever had."

"To Wilson." Cuddy echoes, holding up her glass.

They clink their glasses then both take a drink and Cuddy winces. "God that burns!" She exclaims, holding her chest.

"Only after the first glass. Then it's smooth sailing." He wiggles his eyebrows and takes another slug.

There is silence for a minute. Cuddy, looking down at the glass before her, circles her thumb around its rim.

"You were a good friend to him, House. You took good care of him."

"I have you to thank for that."

"I didn't do anything. You did it on your own."

He shakes his head. "No. My colossal failure when you were sick made me realize how selfish I was. You made me see that I needed to stop putting myself first and step in the other person's shoes for a change. That if I failed at least it was okay because I showed up.

"You make me sound insightful."

"I know. God you're annoying." He takes another slug of his drink. "But it's one of the reason's I respect you. You're not afraid to call me out on my crap and make me face the consequences. As irritating as that is...you're always right. I would just never admit it, because I hate it when you gloat." She laughs as he takes another drink. "I give you a lot of credit for having me thrown in jail. It was the wakeup call I needed."

"Even though you didn't deserve it." She sets her glass on the table.

He turns to look at her. "But you didn't know that. You showed no mercy." He smiles. "Good for you." He says reassuringly, tipping his drink t her. He takes a sip, then sets the glass on the table."That's where Wilson failed. He forgave me too easily, because his neediness took over. But it's also why he was my best friend. I needed his neediness. And now he's gone." With a crackling in his voice he admits, "I miss him, Cuddy." He hangs his head down, one hand rubbing his neck the other resting on his forehead.

Rubbing his back she says, "I know. I'm sorry." She rests her chin on his back, still rubbing it, and makes a confession. "After the shooting, I was a mess. I felt...empty...lost.. There were days when the pain in my hip so was bad I didn't even want to get out of bed. Then it dawned on me that the pain wasn't just physical but emotional. That's when I realized for the first time what it was like to be you. To be in _**your **_shoes."

House takes a few breaths and then sits up, turning his head towards her, pools in his eyes.

She continues."I was an idiot House. I should've never abandoned you like that. I failed to understand what you were going through, because I was too focused on myself."

"Which you should've been." He reassures her.

"No...at least not the whole time. I should've asked if you were okay or had someone check on you. I accused you of not taking on another person's pain without realizing that you were. That it manifested itself in a different way. Even though you took a Vicodin, you still showed up to be with me in my time of need. But when you needed me, I left you. I forgot that we were in a partnership. I was selfish too. I never meant to hurt you, House. That's why I wonder if you could ever forgive _**me**_."

"I forgave you a long time ago." He swallows hard. "Every day I was in that jail cell, all I could think about was you. How I singlehandedly obliterated the best thing that ever happened to me. Stripped away the only happiness I ever had in my life by being a stubborn ass. I thought...you deserved a good life. One that didn't include me, but maybe that guy you were with the last time I saw you."

"Funny story about that guy...he was dull and a bit creepy...like Norman Bates creepy. My sister was the one who set me up with him. She was worried about me, because I hadn't been seeing anyone since the breakup. So, to appease her, I offered to host a dinner party. I figured there were plenty of places to escape in my own house."

House looks down and gives a small smile.

"I never lied to you." She tells him. "I missed you every day and I worried about you all the time. You were my soul mate, House." She swallows hard. "And somehow you always will be."

He looks over at her. She takes her hand and rubs his right cheek with her thumb, then pulls him towards her. He wraps his arms around her and they embrace. Tears start streaming down her cheeks, as well as his. Holding her again felt so right...so much so that he was afraid to let her go lest the feeling be lost forever. She was his beacon of light in this dismal world and her love guided him back home to a place of peace.

Rubbing his back, she tries to comfort him by saying, "It's gonna to be okay. We'll get through this together. I promise."

He pulls away from her a little bit with his hands resting on either side of her waist. She takes his face in her hands, stroking away the tears that have fallen down his cheeks. Looking into his sapphire eyes, she is overcome by their sparkling beauty and it takes her back to that familiar place she so cherished long ago. Feeling that hypnotic pull again, Cuddy leans in and places a feather light kiss on his lips. She pulls away for a moment only to lean in again, plunging her tongue into his mouth. He responds equally with a bevy of emotions from pain to passion to pure love...to want and need...the feeling of loneliness stripped away instantly with just her kiss.

Cuddy pulls away and moves, straddling him. Taking his face in her hands, she dives in for another deep kiss, as his hands slide underneath her shirt roaming her back pulling her closer to him...the sensation of her silky skin beneath his fingers starts to suck the darkness away, making him feel lighter...more alive. She could feel his throbbing cock getting hard against her, sending a shockwave of burning desire throughout her body. Cuddy pulls away again briefly. She crosses her arms, grabs the hem of her t-shirt and swiftly pulls it over her head, then tosses it to the floor. She goes in to devour him again for a few seconds, as her need for him intensifies with each touch of his mouth. House's lips begin to travel from hers down to her neck, exploring each forgotten inch of the body he so held long ago, while her arms are wrapped around his neck...her one hand pulling his head closer to her. The scruff from his beard sends the butterflies from her stomach right down to her groin and she lets out a soft sigh, as the long lost feeling from the past springs to life again. House's hands roam up her back where he gently unhooks her bra. While kissing him, she slides the straps down, pulls the bra off and tosses it to the floor. She then puts her hands atop his shoulders. House takes his right hand, slides it up to her breast and starts making small circles with his thumb around her nipple. She moans in his mouth. Suddenly, she feels his erection pop out of his boxers and his breath getting heavier. She grabs the hem of his shirt, he lifts his arms and she pulls it over his head. She tosses it behind the couch and slides off of him. In one swift move, she pulls down both her yoga pants and panties. Grabbing his shoulders, as he puts his hands around her waist, she lowers herself onto him and once again they are connected.

"Ohhh." He groans.

Slowly, she circles around his pulsating cock before switching to a rocking motion. Grabbing her hips, House thrusts up inside her meeting her pace. They lock eyes as they find their rhythm, then they gradually increase their speed. Faster and faster they go...hearts pounding...pulses racing...sweat pouring from their bodies, refusing to look away from each other; instead uniting in passion and pain in a magnetic force that can only being experienced once in a lifetime. Two broken souls becoming one again. Cuddy uses the couch to brace herself as the fire in the pit of her stomach begins to grow. Finally, she throws her head back as the passion explodes from her body in a loud cry with House spilling into her filling the abyss of her soul with pure love again. For House, his savior has arrived in a bond that may fray but never be truly broken...not by distance or time or anger and adversity. In this moment now, he feels complete as they have finally come full circle again. She will forever be his drug of choice; and he the most incredible man.

She touches her forehead to his. Their breaths start to slow, as tears fall like rivers from their eyes. Cuddy rests her fingers on his neck and her thumbs on his jaw line.

In a quiet, gruff voice House whispers to her, "I love you."

Stroking his jaw line, she replies through tears, "I love you too."

* * *

House and Cuddy decided to take a leave from their jobs for awhile, opting to go on a road trip to New Orleans. It had been about a month since Wilson died and both decided the break was needed for each of them. One thing that they learned from Wilson's death is that each moment of their lives can't be taken for granted and enjoying time with the most important people in them matters more than saving lives. Sometimes you just need to save yourself. With that mindset, they embarked on their journey. However, it was not turning out to be the greatest adventure. First they had to deal with a flat tire. Then the battery on House's iPod went dead. Next, they hit road construction and had to take a detour. If all this weren't bad enough, House's radio was experiencing some major interference and all he could get was the Broadway station.

"Dammit!" House exclaims, hitting the radio.

"Hitting it isn't going to stop the interference." Cuddy remarks with a smirk on her face.

"Oh shut up!" He says frustrated. "If we're gonna get lost, I'd like to at least listen to a decent radio station. This is just crap!"

"So is this car. Why don't you buy a new one? It's not like you can't afford it."

Continuing to fiddle with the radio, while watching the road, he answers her. "Because this is my baby. We've been through a lot together. Keg parties. Road trips. Sexy rendezvous..."

"My dining room..." She says sarcastically.

"Very funny." He says not the least bit amused. "I think that horse has been beaten to death now, don't you?"

She chuckles. "I'm sorry."

"Check the GPS on your phone. See if you can tell where the hell we are."

Cuddy pulls out her phone. Looking at it she mumbles, "Damn. I'm not getting a signal."

"Check mine then." He instructs her.

She looks at his. "You aren't getting anything either." She turns to him and says, "By the way, nice lock screen."

"For your information, a picture of you naked is a great motivator. It's saved many lives, since it actually encourages me to answer my phone...which is currently useless right now unless I want to entertain myself. But you're here, so it _**is **_useless." She chuckles.

He groans. "You know, why do we pay all this money for cell phone service when we can't get a damn signal?"

He continues fumbling with the radio.

Looking out the front window, Cuddy's attention is caught by something in the distance. "Wait. I think that's a sign up ahead."

For a moment House looks up. They both look out the front window. The sign starts to get gradually clearer as they approach it. As they come up to it, they notice at the same time that the sign reads, _**"Welcome to Wilson."**_ In that moment the song "Friendship" from _Anything Goes_ comes in clear as day.

House and Cuddy look at each other dumbfounded. Then Cuddy bursts into laughter.

House shaking his head in disbelief comments, "Son of a bitch. Even in the afterlife he's annoying." House looks up. "Hey Wilson!" Then he throws the finger.

Cuddy continues laughing hysterically as they drive off into the distance with the song still playing.

_**THE END**_


End file.
